Maka Was Maka
by Silver Inklett
Summary: As odd as it sounded, when Soul thought of his meister, the word "girl" did not come to mind. Maka was just Maka, nothing else. SoMa one-shot, completely random, and unedited. Proceed with caution.


**I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters.**

**-0-**

There were certain things in this world Soul didn't question upon his arrival to Death City.

He didn't question how the Death Room was always a comfortable temperature, despite the scorching heat outside.

He didn't question how despite the many battles that took place there, Shibusen always looked brand new (though he believed Kidd was involved somehow).

He didn't question where Maka would pull those books from whenever she Maka-Chopped him.

And he never _ever _questioned, didn't even entertain the thought, that Maka was a girl.

As odd as it sounded, when Soul thought of his meister, the word "girl" did not come to mind. Maka was just Maka, nothing else. He didn't give much thought to the fact that she was a girl because frankly, she didn't act like it.

She wrestled with him and BlackStar whenever the chance would arise. She would climb trees with him, and laugh when they hit the ground in a tangled heap. She would scrape her knees, bruise her knuckles, knock her head around, all in the name of a good time. According to BlackStar, Maka didn't play much before he showed up, but it would be years until Soul understood that she was trying to make up for the childhood she had lost.

When she asked to stay at his apartment while her parents finished up their messy divorce, he didn't think twice. Maka was Maka, and no gender played a role in that. The poor boy was terribly confused when Maka's creepy dad came to his apartment the next day and screamed at him for trying to corrupt his daughter.

Eventually, Maka moved in fully, and yet Soul still didn't think of her as the girl that was his meister. She would lounge around, reading a book contently and not giving a damn when he invaded her personal space to lay out on the couch and watch tv. He was perfectly as ease with his meister, gender be damned.

Then it started.

The first hint was, of course, that _skirt. _Imagine the scythe's surprise when Maka, _Maka _for god's sake, came out wearing that damned piece of fabric. Soul lost his bearings for a second, cause suddenly, his meister was wearing skirts that only came mid-thigh, and he was at a loss. But Maka was still Maka, so he ignored it, and continued on with his life. Though he now had to be wary of those damned legs emerging from that damned skirt, because Maka was Maka and admiring her legs was like admiring BlackStar's.

Thankfully Soul was safe for a few more years after the skirt. They fought, they killed, they argued, and they were just them. Maka would still wrestle with him and BlackStar, though now the two boys had to be wary not to grab anywhere they weren't supposed to (which put them at a serious disadvantage). She would still climb trees with Soul on those lazy summer days, though now Soul always had to go first, because god forbid he look _up. _Eventually the two friends, teenagers now, calmed down. Maka found herself reading more often and studying harder. Soul found himself working to keep his cool persona most of the time now, instead of casually maintaining it.

Then it happened again. Another earthquake in Soul's relatively calm world.

He remembered the exact day, because it was the day when he and his meister failed miserably on collecting the soul of the witch Blair, who turned out to be a god forsaken _cat _(Soul knew there was a reason he liked dogs more). He had hopped on his motorcycle and motioned for Maka to get on after him, like always. Still grumbling, and crying a little bit, she hopped on after him and suddenly the world shifted from under his feet again.

Because plain as day, right up against his back, was the feeling of something, two very _soft _somethings, pressing against him. They were small, but they were there.

Good Lord, his meister had breasts.

It took Soul a moment to remember how to start the bike, because he was still reeling over the fact that his meister, _Maka, _had mammary glands. It was only after the cause of his internal melt down poked him in the shoulder did Soul remember that the key was supposed to turn back. He took off, trying to ignore the feeling of his meister's tits rubbing against him when she turned to scream at the cat following them.

When said cat showed up on in his kitchen a few days later, eating his cereal, he was still in too much shock to even care, because Maka was Maka, and Maka did not have boobs.

From there on in, it just got worse.

First she ditched the vest, letting her newfound form free for the world to see.

Then she started letting her hair down instead of in its normal pigtails, where Soul could pretend he didn't want to run his fingers through the straw blonde locks for hours and hours.

Soon, she was putting on the slightest dab of lip gloss on, the barest hit of mascara, and it drove the poor weapon crazy because Maka was Maka, and when she starts wearing makeup, it's time to get ready for the apocalypse.

But Soul took all of this in stride. He treated her the same, like she wasn't suddenly a girl and he had no idea what to do about it. They didn't wrestle anymore, Soul was too scared of accidently grabbing something he shouldn't and _liking it. _They didn't climb trees anymore because nowhere was safe on that damn thing, and besides, being stuck in a tree with a girl (_Maka _none the less) where no one could see the two made Soul sweat a bit.

But underneath it all Maka was still his meister, and he was still her weapon. They were partners, and nothing would change that.

Then she had to go and forget her clothes when she went to take a shower.

His eyes followed her faithfully as her long bare legs trotted to the laundry room, kicking the door closed after her, and Soul couldn't stop replaying the sight of her slim feminine form moving up and down and up and-

Up.

_Fuck._

He ran to his room as quickly as he could and sighed, knowing that if he ever popped a boner in the living room again (because of _Maka _no less), he was going to die a gruesome, book related death. That didn't stop him from picturing that damnable body when he took care of his little problem.

Everything was different now, because he found her attractive in that way that no weapon should ever find their meister attractive, and it scared him. Maka was Maka, and he could not have the hots for Maka. It was like crushing on his sister. He started spending more time at BlackStar's place, started heading home before Maka had a chance to climb aboard his bike (the Maka-Chop was the better alternative to having that body pressed flush against his back for a solid ten minutes). Maka kept asking him what was wrong, was he mad at her, what did she do wrong?

Soul wanted to tell her nothing, and at the same time wanted to admit that her very _existence_ was driving him to the point of madness.

Instead he grunted that he had other plans and that she should hang out Tsubaki more often or something. He was hurting her feelings, but at least if they were far away from each other, he wouldn't be risking her virginity.

Maka was Maka, and Soul was in love with his meister.

Everything about her drew him in, and as hard as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't. All she had to do was smile, or wrap those perfect lips (not too thin and not too full) around his name, and he was at her beck and call. It was getting harder to resist the urge to take her as his own, mind, body, and soul, but he fought with all his might.

He fought like his life depended on it, because in a way, it did.

Just before he lost all hope in being something other than "Maka's horny weapon," something amazing happened. Kidd and Patti, of all people, announced to the school that they were dating.

They were meister and weapon, right? If they could do it, why couldn't he? Why couldn't he have the same shot at happiness with his meister that Patti had with her's?

There was no good reason for it, so that day Soul ran home and asked Maka out to dinner.

He was scared of course, terrified even, because Maka had an awful track record with trusting men, and whether he liked it or not, he was a hormonally-driven _male, _and what obligation did Maka have to him to accept?

But after a moment's consideration, she smiled brightly at him and said with a laugh "Took you long enough!"

The date wasn't perfect, but that might just be because Maka was Maka, and even if it wasn't perfect, it was, because Soul was in love with his meister and his meister was in love with him.

And a few days after their first date, Soul discovered that her boobs were so much softer than he imagined.


End file.
